


Why?

by scarlthesnarl



Series: Tales Of Fiore: A Drabble and Oneshot Collection [1]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Body Horror, Drabbles, Gen, waking up during surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8024557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlthesnarl/pseuds/scarlthesnarl
Summary: He never asked for this... whatever this is.





	Why?

**Author's Note:**

> Laxus wakes up during the implantation of his lacrima... so please take heed. Last warning.

Where… where was he?

His eyes were dark. He could not see. Was he in his room? Did the magic in his star projector run out again? He tried to feel for his heavy, worn quilt, he really did, but nothing met his touch. Nothing met his touch at all. In fact, he could not find the strength to move. 

No smells or sounds gave him any clue as to what was going on. 

The bitter tang of metal fouled his tongue though. Oh gods what was happening? 

He drifted for hours, at least… it felt like hours. All of his efforts to reach out met with void or that damnable taste. Fear waxed and waned with each attempt, each stint of apathy between them becoming shorter and far less potent. 

Over and over he tried. Surely he’d make a break through eventually, right? He- Why was his chest wet? 

Why did it feel… raw? 

Thunk. 

He tried to jerk away from the rattling impact on his sternum and the ribs across his left side. 

Thunk, thunk, thunk. 

Oh gods, stop! Please! He wanted to whimper, he wanted to cry. 

His ribs being wrenched out of place followed.

It didn’t hurt… not like that time he fell out of a tree and broke his arm. Not like he thought it should.   
Whatever was slowly pulling him apart stopped. Did it only now hear his plea? Was it done? Please, he prayed, put me back together.   
No, no he would never be so lucky. Something round and hard was deliberately thrust into the gaping hole in his chest, finally wrenching forth a scream from his once paralyzed vocal chords. Whatever it was, he felt like it was tearing him apart from within. Lines of power arced through him and all he could do was thrash as it tried to splinter his bones to pieces. It heated the space around his heart to unbearable temperatures and turned his blood to acid in his veins. 

Were he able to form a coherent thought, he would have hoped this would kill him. 

The only mercy granted to him in his torment was the darkness of the void, his overwrought nervous system finally giving up the fight.


End file.
